


"Regency hurt/comfort angst-filled melodrama": not!fic

by sunsetmog



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Melodrama, Not!Fic, Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:05:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Spencer's marriage is arranged, and his wedding day is fast approaching, only the person he is marrying is not Brendon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Regency hurt/comfort angst-filled melodrama": not!fic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hermette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermette/gifts).



> So, I was having a perfectly normal email conversation with hermette, and then this happened. I wrote a thing.
> 
> I like to call it "Regency hurt/comfort angst-filled melodrama", which is as good a title as any.
> 
> Not!fic.

I want all the stories about Brendon and Spencer falling desperately in love but not being able to do anything about it, and wearing shirts and breeches and top hats and going to dances and standing together by the drinks table and wanting to touch but not knowing they can and spending all of their time together and being the most in love anyone can be.

Maybe Spencer's marriage is arranged, and Brendon is heartbroken since it is a marriage for money, and it would involve Spencer leaving the area. Brendon has no idea what to do with himself if Spencer isn't there every day, and Spencer's unable to cope with the idea of marriage either.

And then somehow they're tense and upset and Spencer's leaving day is drawing closer and they're out together in the woods. Brendon falls off his horse, and Spencer can't get to his side quick enough, but Brendon is just winded. Then there's a moment, the longest moment, where they just look at each other and Brendon lets everything show on his face, just this once, and it's like someone's tearing open his chest, that's how much it hurts. And Spencer closes the distance between them and kisses Brendon so hard he can barely breathe, and Brendon's kissing back, and they're stumbling into the tree and into each other's arms, and they just _can't stop_ kissing.

They kiss, and they keep kissing, and they're covered in grass stains and bark stains. The ground is wet in the wood but they can't break away from each other, and they don't want to either. When they finally pull away from each other, gasping for breath, Brendon's mouth is swollen from all of the kissing, and Spencer can't take his eyes off him, or his mouth. "I can't -" he says. He doesn't know what to say.

"I love you more than anyone else ever could," Brendon says, fiercely. "I will never love everyone the way I love you, not ever."

And Spencer's heart breaks, and he can't breathe, and he can't speak so he kisses Brendon again, over and over.

I think this is the start of their desperate affair where they don't think about the future, only about each other and how much they love each other, and each day is just them figuring out how they can see each other again and where they can go to kiss.

Then one day they are seen, and they are blackmailed by the footman, Thomas. They pay him and he destroys the notes that he had found, and then he leaves. Brendon and Spencer decide never to do it again, only they both need each other so much, and they're both hurting.

Then, as Spencer is getting ready to leave, he sees Brendon waiting by the door, and he can't leave without touching him one more time. He just can't. So he runs down the stairs and into Brendon's arms and they just kiss and kiss and neither of them care about anyone watching. Not when it's the two of them. But luckily, everyone is outside waiting for them, and nobody sees.

Spencer says, "I'll never love anyone else but you," and "Please be happy."

Brendon cries, and he can't help it, and Spencer's crying too, and then he's driving off and leaving Brendon behind.

Brendon spends the next five days not sleeping and not doing much else, either. He's broken hearted, and his life was Spencer, and now Spencer has gone, and there's nothing left, just the hole in his chest where his heart used to be. There's no point to anything now Spencer isn't here, and Spencer won't be here anymore, so he rides through the woods and sits by the edge of the river and tries not to give up on life, because Spencer wouldn't want that.

And then, on the fifth day, when his cook has given up on him ever eating anything that resembled a meal again, and it's dark outside and the wind is howling and the rain is pouring, there's a noise from downstairs.

What if it's news about Spencer? Brendon doesn't wait for his footman to come find him; he races down the stairs, just in case there's a note, or word, or _something_.

Instead, there's Spencer Smith, soaking wet and shivering and covered in mud, dripping in his hallway, and staring at him with pale, haunted eyes. "Please—" he says, and Brendon's taking the stairs two at a time and wrapping his arms around Spencer, not letting him go.

Brendon doesn't let Spencer speak, because he's shivering too much and wet through, so he drags him into the library, where there's the remains of a fire in the grate. He tugs the blanket off the settee—because Brendon often sits in here of an evening and wraps himself in the blanket in front of the fire to keep warm - and pulls it around Spencer's shoulders. He builds up the fire as much as he can, and rings for the footman to bring tea, and whisky, and hot water. And something to eat. And cake. And an extra blanket.

And then, he says, when the footman comes in with a tray, he can go to bed. There's no need to wait up.

"Very good, sir," the footman says, and Brendon waits until the door is closed before starting to fumble with Spencer's soaked coat, and his shirt, and the knot of his tie.

"What are you doing?" Spencer says, through chattering teeth.

Brendon shakes his head. "I'm not losing you again," he says, and fumbles with the buttons. "You're soaking. You need to get warm. And dry."

Spencer's shivering too much to protest, and he lets Brendon take his coat, and his shirt, and his breeches. He's just in his long underwear, and that's cold and wet too, but Brendon's too nervous to remove that. Instead, he pulls the settee closer to the fire, and wraps the two blankets around Spencer's shoulders whilst he pours the tea.

When he notices Spencer's wearing a wedding ring, he drops the cup and it shatters on the hearth, sending hot water all the way up Brendon's leg.

"Brendon -" Spencer says, jumping to his feet, but Brendon's shying away, fanning his leg to take away the worst of the heat.

"I am fine, do not worry. I am fine," he says. He can't stop looking at Spencer's ring. _I have lost him_ , he thinks. _He is gone forever, and I must go on alone_.

His heart breaks.

He stands by the window, with its drawn curtains to keep out the cold, and his shoulders heave. He can't even feel the pain in his leg from where the tea scalded him. All he can think about is loving Spencer and losing him, and being alone, and it hurts. Everything hurts.

"Brendon," Spencer says, from behind him. "Brendon, look at me."

"You're _married_ ," Brendon manages. His voice shakes. It shakes, and he doesn't try and fix it.

"It isn't what you think," Spencer says. "I've come back to you. I want you. I missed _you_."

"No," Brendon says, even though his heart is crushed into a hundred tiny pieces. "I will not do that to—to your _wife_."

"Please," Spencer says. He touches Brendon's shoulder with his hand, drawing him back. Brendon goes unwillingly, because he's broken, and he hurts, and then Spencer's tugging him into the tightest hug that Brendon's ever received, and Brendon can't do other than hug back, than let Spencer breathe wetly against his neck and listen to him say, "It's you that I love, I love you, my heart is yours, Brendon. My heart is yours."

When Spencer kisses him, dressed only in his underclothes and wrapped in a blanket, Brendon can't help but kiss him back. Spencer loves him; he is loved. He is loved.

He is loved, and Spencer is not his.

He pulls away. "No," he says. "I will not betray your wife in this way." He looks down at the floor, because he is crying, and he is alone. "You will forever be my love," he says. "You will have my heart forever, however wrong that may be. But you are not mine, and you cannot pretend that you will ever be."

Spencer looks the other way, but Brendon can see the way his eyes are wet. "Will you listen to me, when I tell you of my wedding day?" Spencer asks.

"Do I have to?" Brendon says, because he doesn't think he can listen to that and not break down.

"Please," Spencer says. "Please."

Brendon doesn't look up, but he makes a sign with his hand that Spencer may proceed.  
"It rained," Spencer says, "which is only important because the weather reflected how I approached the day. My family were not happy; this was necessity, and I was the sacrifice, and as you know, my wife will bring the bulk of the wealth to our partnership. Dorita's family home is cold, and off-putting, and her father the kind of man that used to scare us at school; do you remember?"

Brendon nods jerkily. "I remember."

"Dorita was colder still; she would not meet my eyes and she shuddered at my touch in the church. I repeated my vows and thought only of you; my heartbreak was complete. The day wore on; we sat in silence through a meal, and then, after an interminable wait, it was time to turn in."

"Spencer—"

"Please," Spencer says. "Hear me out. Dorita took my arm, and she let my mother kiss her, and then we went upstairs and into our chamber, and the door closed and she dropped my hand and cried." Spencer met Brendon's eyes. "She cried, Brendon. She cried, and apologised, and begged me not to take her against her will, but in truth she loved another, and would never love me."

Brendon's hands clenched into desperate fists, and he turned from Spencer, turned into the darkness of the corner, and could not tell whether he wished for Spencer to go on, or to never speak again.

"The name of her love," Spencer went on, " _her_ name, her name was Lucy, and she was her lady's maid. Dorita begged me not to speak of it to anyone, and offered me everything in return for keeping her secret. She was desperate, and afraid, but she would not betray her love, not even to pretend to me."

"She didn't tell you before the service, though," Brendon doesn't look around. "That was when she should have said she couldn't be your wife."

"I am glad she did not," Spencer says.

Brendon doesn't want to hear anymore, but Spencer continues to talk, his hand on Brendon's elbow.

"I offered her an exchange," he says. "I told her of my love for you, in return for her telling me of hers."

"What does that matter?" Brendon says, in frustration. "For you are married, and you are no longer mine to love, and why do you persist in telling me?"

"Because Dorita and I are going to move to Yorkshire," he says, softly. "There is a manor house near Otley that Dorita believes would suit our family perfectly."

"Good," Brendon says, because he's going to cry, and he's going to die of hurt and sadness and loneliness and desperate, desperate want.

"Dorita will be there, and Lucy," Spencer says. "And me, in my own rooms, and I am hoping, _you_."

Hope blossoms in Brendon's heart. He tries, desperately, to stem it before it becomes too much. "What if there is another footman like Thomas?" he asks, hesitantly. Being blackmailed is not something he ever wants to go through again, not ever.

"There won't be," Spencer says. "Dorita's Lucy has found us a staff. They are all trustworthy. She has London connections; there is a history. But it is safe. We will be safe." For a second, his voice breaks. "Please, Brendon. I cannot be without you. I wish it could have been you that I married. I would give anything to be able to stand before God and make you my husband, but I cannot, and Dorita cannot, and Lucy cannot. But I will stand before you now, and offer the same to you that I would offer before God; my hand, my heart—" his hand finds Brendon's, and Brendon can't breathe, he _can't breathe—_ "I will honour and obey you, Brendon Urie. I will be there for you in sickness and in health. I will trust in you forever, and offer you the same in return; my trust, and yours in me. Brendon, please. Say you will come with me."

And Brendon can't breathe, and he can't speak, but he lets himself be drawn into Spencer's embrace, and his kiss, and as Spencer wraps his blanket around Brendon's shoulders and leads him to the settee in front of the fire, Brendon says, "Yes, forever, yes."

END. \o/


End file.
